he two expect to spend some time
in England, where we will leave them.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Sabrina was married to Wilbur the day after the Friar Festival and we
acted in the capacity of best man and were very much in evidence in the
feast that followed. We imprinted chaste salutes on the lips of the
blushing bride until the groom tore us asunder. After the festivities
Sabrina and Wilbur disappeared and for the past ten days their favorite
cafes and loafing places have known them not. We were just beginning to
get nervous when the postman brought the following letter:

"London.

"Dear Party--I guess maybe when you pipe off this effusion you
will throw a foaming fit and fall in it. Me and Wilbur are now
in the city of fogs and take it from me, it's a bum habitation
for even a dog.

"After you and the rest of the gang did the shoot the chutes
under the table at the wedding breakfast me and his nobs grabbed
our make-up boxes and took it on the lope for the ferry station.
I thought we were going to take a wedding tour to Asbury Park or
some of the other watering places, but what does Wilbur do but
sidestep the ferry proposition and we go prancing up to a dock
where a boat about nine miles big was hitched and before I had
time to give the office to the cop on the beat Wilbur rushes me
up the plank and into the outfit. Honest, it was bigger than any
of the Coney Island boats. I was under the impression for the
nonce that it was the night boat up the Hudson but I didn't see
a steward I knew.

"A guy who had enough gilt on to be a Major-General in the
National Guard came floundering up and Wilbur gave him his real
name and the wop said, 'This way, please, threw us into a young
elevator and we went up a couple of stories and along a hall
until we came to a door which the gee threw open and said, 'This
is your stateroom.'

"Honest, I never saw such a drum. A great big room with a real
bed instead of those shelve things and off of the room a bath,
and we were only to be on the water five days. Can you beat it?
I was the one surprised pup and as soon as I hung my 'Merry
Widow' on the gas jet I asked Wilbur about it.

"He says, 'Kid, we are on the ferry to Europe and we are going
to spend our honeymoon across the pond.' I says, 'not for little
Sabrina; you don't get her out of sight of New York